Expression Through Art
by Yersinia Plague
Summary: Larxene x Naminé 'I didn’t think you wanted your picture drawn,' Naminé responded'


**Title:** Expression Through Art  
**Author:** Blind Destruction  
**Pairings:** Larxene/Naminé and hints of Marluxia/Vexen  
**Rating:** Teen-ish?  
**Warnings:** Implications of sex  
**Disclaimer:** The characters are not mine. They belong to Square Enix, and taken from the video game Kingdom Hearts II.  
**Author's Note:** Written for Bolt's birthday.

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**Expression Through Art  
**

Had there been sunshine in The World That Never Was, it probably could have been a sunny, well-lit room. As it stood, there was no sun, and in place of any sort of celestial change was Kingdom Hearts. The giant, heart-shaped moon that illuminated the non-existent world, shone with a light that the non-existent inhabitants of the non-existent castle sought after.

She didn't mind Kingdom Hearts; she didn't see it as something that belonged to her, or as something that she should seek to control. She didn't mind terribly that the only external light she had in that realm was the pale moonlight that seeped in through her window. She only cared a little bit that her true existence was locked away in the elusive leviathan of a heart- but that was the way things were. She wasn't even confident that this pseudo-escape/headquarters that had been built would be able to restore her and the others living within.

Naminé was content to simply sit in her room and draw- as content as anyone who wasn't really there could be, she supposed. She had managed to find humble release in the small 'white room' that had been granted to her. Being a prisoner of the 'Lord of the Castle' only made the witch slightly impatient, not significantly so. Besides, it was a fact. Nothing didn't really feel or care anyway.

The petite blond was sitting at an expansive marble table. Her short legs weren't long enough to touch the floor, and so she swung them idly as she worked.

Naminé's sketchbook lay open in front of her, a well-looked-after brown crayon clasped tightly in her small hands, blue eyes narrowed as the drawing implement moved back and forth across the page. Her entire presence seemed to exude concentration.

This was her solace; her release from the dark clutches of the Organization, from the 'mastermind' who had forced her to corrupt the memories of the innocent.

"Sora."

The name was spoken into the silence, or maybe it wasn't- nothing has no voice, after all. She thought about the boy as her crayon continued to move, and a frown creased her brow, this suggestion of real feeling sparked by nothing more than a memory of emotion. Naminé would end up nothing more than a simple memory herself in the end, there wasn't much that would change that. Yet, she continued to believe in Sora, finding faith in the fact that he would be the one to salvage whatever was left to salvage in this realm.

Placing the brown crayon back into the box, she pondered for a moment before reaching in and pulling out a bright red crayon. Just as she touched the crayon to the paper, she was interrupted.

"_Goddammit!_" A familiar female voice shouted, surprising her to such an extent that she jumped a little way off her chair. "Godammit, that fucking_bastard, _I'm going to KILL him- then chop up his dick and_choke _him with it!"

Her door was forced open, the unfortified wood having no chance against its aggressor, as a result being instantly slammed backwards into the wall, where it rebounded with a loud 'bang'.

The owner of the voice had stepped into the room, hands clenched tightly at her sides, blond hair more dishevelled than could be considered customary for the woman.

"Larxene?" Naminé inquired softly. This was no surprise; the Organization often bothered her in the middle of her drawing whims. It was common for Marluxia, Zexion, Larxene, and even Axel- the clever backstabber that he was- to wander into the room, time after time. Most of the visits were all business. The Keyblade wielder had become active and Marluxia wanted Naminé to aid him using her mysterious powers. At other times, the black clothed Nobodies would simply pop out of nowhere and 'spend some time with her'. So it was no surprise that Larxene had appeared so suddenly. Whenever The Savage Nymph showed up for 'pleasure' – Well, Naminé tended to enjoy the business visits in those instances.

The older blond ignored Naminé, strided into the room and headed over to the window. She glanced outwards for a moment before turning around abruptly and slamming her hands on the table. Naminé couldn't help but wince, and cringed backwards from the sudden, aggressive motion.

"Larxene?" The witch repeated, blue eyes wide, partially in surprise and partially due to fear.

The Nymph looked up from the table, making eye contact with Naminé before smirking cruelly; "We're going to get rid of them. Xemnas and anyone who dares get in our fucking way. The fucker won't know what hit him."

The smirk grew wider, a strange, terrifying look for Larxene of all people to have. Naminé may have been afraid- or she may have brought up the memory of fear- had Larxene no reason to keep her around. As it stood, Larxene had no reason to hurt her. It wasn't as though the blond really needed a reason in the first place, but Naminé was fairly certain that Larxene wasn't homicidal enough to want to kill her.

So she nodded complacently, bowing her head forward slightly, ignoring the few blond strands that fell into her face.

"Good," was the only response offered as Larxene turned, this time looking at the pieces of paper taped to the walls.

Naminé wanted to return to her drawing, but she was intrigued, if not a little curious, as to what Larxene wanted.

The Nymph's smirk was gone, the confirmation that her betrayal would be complete with Naminé's help had lightened her mood, which, in Larxene's case, was a feat worth noting.

Naminé could almost sense this hunger oozing from the Nobody; she could even recall a time when it had disturbed her. However, she had come to accept her captors the way they were- perhaps Larxene more than any of the others.

Her gaze remained fixedly on the Nobody, who was examining a picture she had drawn long ago; one of Marluxia and Vexen in the garden. The next she moved to study was one of Axel posing, that typical shit eating grin of his all over his face. Larxene continued to look at them without speaking. Several of the pictures featured the organization, some had the keyblade wielder, there were even a few had drawings of the keyblade wielders companions. Sora's friends had even shown up on the walls: the silver haired tool and the red-headed 'princess'.

Just as Naminé's focus returned to her page, Larxene spoke up.

"Why am I not on here?" Blunt and honest, completely unabashed in her curiosity. Larxene glanced over her shoulder, tilting her head slightly as she waited for an answer.

"I didn't think you wanted your picture drawn," Naminé responded, glancing upwards with the crayon poised over the page, not entirely sure of what kind of a reply the woman wanted.

"Why? Because I didn't do this?" Larxene cocked her head over at Axel's picture, and shook her head; "Arrogant fuck."

Naminé kept her mouth shut at the insult, deciding that it would probably be a much better idea to keep her thoughts to herself. People, or, Nobodies, rather, were quite volatile. Some more than others, and in Larxene's case, it was a powder-keg.

"I'm sorry?" Naminé said, almost questioningly, unsure of why Larxene would care about such a thing.

"Don't lie to me. You're as sorry as I am."

Naminé's lips parted in her desire to say something, and she even went so far as mouthing the first word, before shaking her head and deciding on another course of action. "You don't remember feeling, do you?"

The Nymph turned all the way around, leaning against a free space in the wall as she quirked an eyebrow. "I don't have feelings. Why bother remember them?"

"Don't you miss them?" Naminé pressed, still totally unsure of what her point was, let alone Larxene's. "Don't you want to feel?"

Larxene laughed. "Why would I want to feel? I want to exist. That's the only reason I'm with them." She gave a slight jerk of the head towards the door, as though gesturing toward the other inhabitants of the castle.

"But, wouldn't Xemnas help you do the same thing as Marluxia?"

"Xemnas is a fucking pussy. He only wants his heart so he can say 'I love you' to his little puppy. He pretends to want to feel, but we're all dispensable to him. He could care less."

Naminé frowned but persisted. "And you don't want to feel love?"

Larxene laughed again; a bitter bark of a laugh that almost made Naminé regret asking the question in the first place. The woman shook her head, the smile set on her face. "Why would I want to?"

"Because love is important," Naminé declared, lifting a hand and placing it over her chest, where her heart should have been. "Without love, there will always be nothing! You can't say you don't believe in love."

Larxene shook her head, the smile finally dropping from her face.

"Tell me, witch," she said, removing her weight from the wall, and moved over to the table, pressing her palms downward onto the cool wood, "do you believe in love?"

"Of course I do!" Naminé replied indignantly. "I may not feel it but I-"

She stopped speaking, or was cut off rather, by the pair of lips that covered her mouth, and stopped her words. Naminé squeaked slightly into Larxene's mouth, remotely surprised, but gave up struggling when one of Larxene's black gloved hands threaded its way through her hair, and calmed her into a state of submission. Larxene's tongue pried her lips open and Naminé complied, letting her jaw go lax, allowing the more dominant Nobody to take control.

Larxene had managed to slip the straps of Naminé's dress off when a portal appeared in the center of the room, and a familiar scientist's head poked through.

"Larxene," Vexen stated calmly, seemingly not taken back at all by what Larxene was doing with their prisoner, "Marluxia said to stop entertaining yourself, and to go meet with him."

Larxene scowled at the scientist, shaking her head. "Tell him to wait."

"He says it is urgent," Vexen responded despondently, shrugging, "it would be wise to see him."

With that the Academic stepped back into the portal, leaving the two girls alone in the room.

"Have I ever told you exactly how much I hate men?" Larxene questioned, getting up off of the aroused witch.

She summoned a portal with a distracted flick of her hand, stepping into the newly created void with a look on her face that screamed murder.

Marluxia hadn't wanted much, just to go over the plans with her and Axel. He was determined to make this plan work, to follow it through to the end without a flaw.

Larxene had spoken to Axel afterwards; it was a boring conversation, and they both hurried off to their own 'business'. The redhead was probably off to The Castle That Never Was to find his little under-age crush.

After that, Larxene had gone world-hopping to look for someone to satisfy what she and Naminé had started. That princess with the dark hair, perhaps, that 'Belle'? As it turned out, she had been a lot more willing than one would have initially presumed. Then again, being with something as horrific as the Beast could probably account for her lack of standard. Or, maybe it was the constant pseudo-bestiality that gave Belle such a open-mindedness towards 'new things'.

The Nymph had returned to her room some time in the dead of night. The only people that would be likely to be awake were Marluxia and Vexen, but that was about as surprising as finding out that Xigbar was a pedophile in his former life.

Larxene went to open her door, but paused when saw a folded piece of paper beneath it. She stooped down to pick it up, holding the paper delicately between her fingers, vowing that if it was another summoning from Marluxia, she would be castrating a scientist in no time.

Opening the paper, Larxene held it carefully as she studied the contents. The page was illuminated enough by the light from Kingdom Hearts to make what was going on decipherable.

It was a drawing of her and Naminé. The latter blonde was beneath the former, her mouth opened wide as Larxene's fingers explored her more 'thoroughly'. They were both naked and completely drenched in sweat, going at it on a large bed covered in pale purple sheets.

Beneath the picture, in blocky, black, almost childish writing was written: "This is why I couldn't hang any of the pictures of you."

Larxene read over the words carefully, and laughed. She would have to pay Naminé another visit sometime soon.


End file.
